


In Which Stiles Has a Very Bad Day (But Still Gets Eye Candy)

by PolkaDotDragon



Series: Elijah’s Fandom Traveling Adventures [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV), The Originals (TV), The Vampire Diaries & Related Fandoms, The Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: Bloodlust, But is it just for his blood?, Elijah hungers for Stiles, Fusion, Gen, I am such trash for Elijah that I want to write him in every fandom, M/M, Possibly up for a sequel, Pre-Stiles Stilinski/Elijah Mikaelson, Sort Of, Stiles POV, Stiles ogles the fanciest Original
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-26
Updated: 2019-12-17
Packaged: 2020-06-02 10:56:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19440028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PolkaDotDragon/pseuds/PolkaDotDragon
Summary: “Oh my god I’m going to die” the words left Stiles Stilinski’s mouth as a strangled whisper as the boy rapidly backed up. His elbow slammed into the stone behind him, the rough surface scraping through the skin. “Shit!” ‘This is so unfair,’ the teenager through to himself. ‘I’m too young to die! This is all the stupid alpha pack’s fault!! I don’t want to get eaten!’Stiles day keeps getting worse (but eventually gets better).





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I was reading some Teen Wolf fanfics again and because I can’t help but insert Elijah into all the fandoms I think of... this was born. This is set after season 2 of Teen Wolf, but Erika and Boyd are still chilling in Beacon Hills. This is pre-series for TVD/TO and though it doesn’t matter for this fic, AU backstory for the Originals. If I continue writing this, Elijah’s differnt background may come into play. If you’d like to read more of that, let me know :) I have at least a little of a sequel in mind.

“Oh my god I’m going to die” the words left Stiles Stilinski’s mouth as a strangled whisper as the boy rapidly backed up. His elbow slammed into the stone behind him, the rough surface scraping through the skin. “Shit!” _This_ _is_ _so_ _unfair_! The teenager through to himself. _I’m_ _too_ _young_ _to_ die! _This is all the stupid alpha pack’s fault!! I don’t want to get eaten!_

* * *

**10 hours earlier**

“Sourwolf” Stiles greets Derek as he bounds into the loft. “Wow you’ve really upgraded.”

“Stiles” the alpha grounds out, “What are you doing here.”

“He’s here with me” Scott says defiantly as he steps through the door, jutting his chin up.

Derek opens his mouth to object, but gives up at Scott’s glare. “Whatever,” Derek grunts, throwing his hands up in the air.

The best friends follow the grumpy wolf to the kitchen, where the rest of the pack is waiting. Derek begins describing something about the alpha pack, but Stiles is distracted by the kitchen. It’s actually nice. With shiny chrome appliances and is that a blender?? _Does the grumpy wolf make smoothies?_ A voice in the background was getting louder, but Stiles couldn’t get past the image of surly Derek Hale blending bright colored fruits into a sugary drink.

“Stiles!” Derek’s snarl shook him out of his head, alpha eyes flashing, and the boy scrambled to stay balanced on the stool as his arms and legs flailed.

“Oh my god, give a guy a bit of warning.” Stiles squeaked out.

“He’s been talking to you for the past 5 minutes” Boyd said stoically, one eye brow raised. _Damn I wish I could do that_ , Stiles couldn’t help but think. He had tried. But after researching, he had found it was genetic. Dammit.

“Did you take your Adderall this morning?” Scott questioned.

“Oh my god yes… I think… Whatever, this isn’t gang up on Stiles night! Sourwolf, You were saying?”

The alpha massaged his forehead, but continued, ignoring Erika and Issac’s snickering. Apparently the alpha pack had been seen with over 10 omegas outside of Beacon Hills a couple days ago. Derek suspected the alphas had brought the other werewolves here. As they talked patrols and training, Stiles wondered why Derek had even been addressing him. _I wonder if he has any good smoothie recipes_ , Stiles wondered to himself. They don’t have to be made with lots of sugar. Would Dad drink one with kale?

“Stiles!” The hyperactive teen snapped back to attention.

“Huh?”

“If you’re going to insist on sticking your nose into things, you can investigate where these omegas might be staying.” Derek’s arms bulged as he crossed them over his chest. They were really nice arms. _Does he do that on purpose?_ Stiles pondered.

“Sure. I will investigate the hell out of it!” Stiles’ legs jiggled beneath the table in excitement. “I will investigate it so thoroughly you will be in AWE.”

“Oh my god, just stay out of my way” Derek grumbled as he called the meeting to a close.

* * *

Stiles went home, took a couple Adderall, ate some left over pasta, and researched “the hell out of it”, starting with abandoned buildings big enough to house 10 werewolves. It wouldn’t be anywhere too public. That narrowed it down to 7 buildings. Thinking about sensitivity to sounds, Stiles crossed off the most trafficked areas off the list. Now there just 4 left. Unfortunately, the teen couldn’t find any distinguishing features between the remaining options.

“Hey son,” Stiles’ dad popped his head in the door. “I’m heading out. Do you need anything?” The sheriff had been pulling a lot of shifts lately. They still hadn’t replaced all the officers lost in Matt’s attack on the station. This wasn’t the first night shift he had pulled this week and it wouldn’t be the last.

“Heeey Dad…I’m good,” Stiles responded, trying to surreptitiously turn his laptop screen away, but only succeeding in drawing his father’s eye.

“I’m not gonna ask.” His father rolled his eyes. “I might not be home before you leave for school in the morning, but I should be up by the time you get home.”

“Ok,” Stiles smiled awkwardly. “Have a good shift.” He listened for the sounds of his father’s footsteps down the stairs and closing of the door. Cool, Stiles has the evening free to go investigate without his father interfering. He considered the wisdom of going out on his own to investigate the housing of a probably murderous pack of omegas. The others would probably say its too dangerous. For a mere human. Stiles spins on his chair. “Well fuck them.” He jumped out of his chair. Stiles wouldn’t regret showing them what a human can do.

* * *

**9 and ¾ hours later**

_I regret this so bad!_ Branches cracked across his pale skin as he ran desperately through the forest. _Why am I always the one to get kidnapped!_ He screams internally. Stiles could hear the wolves catching up to him. Shit! He’s lost in some random forest, no idea where he is. Before waking in these woods, the last thing he remembers is glowing eyes and abusing claws at the third warehouse he was investigating. And considering it had not snowed in Beacon Hills since the previous winter, the snow on the ground was _really_ freaking concerning. Stiles can barely keep traction in his sneakers and the cold bites through his thin T-shirt. Each breath he takes feels like it was burning his lungs. His muscles were on fire. Even if his pursuers were human, he wouldn’t be able to outrun them for much longer. But they were werewolves. 147 pounds of pale skin and bones never stood a chance.

_If you’re going through hell, keep going._

_Thanks Ms. Morrel, real great life advice there._ If only his sarcasm could actually be used as a weapon. Stiles catches a glimpse of the moon shining through the trees and its that he’s focusing on when his foot gets caught in a root and he feels his ankle twisting as he hurls towards the earth. _Oh god,_ he thinks to himself on the way down. _This couldn’t get any worse._

As if the fates heard Stiles’s thoughts and laughed, the ground beneath him crumbles when his body hits it and he’s falling into the dark.

* * *

He wakes with a groan, broken rocks cutting into his cheek. As he fumbles around himself, he realizes he’s laying on something soft. Not soft like a fluffy pillow, Stiles thinks to himself, but soft like fles— _Oh my god please tell me that’s not a body I’m lying on._ The teen scrambles off, falling a couple more feet to what feels like a stone floor. His hand scrapes across a sharp rock and ouch, he’s bleeding. Shit. He hears the werewolves talking above ground. They’re hesitant to jump in the deep hole but one speaks up. “There’s a set of old tunnels underground here. And only one entrance. We’ll get the little shit.” That’s encouraging. NOT.

A sliver of light from the moon shines from the hole in the ceiling, and Stiles’s eyes dart around the small room as they acclimate. He avoids looking at the center of the room (OMG no dead body, no sir), instead noting details like the door made of old iron bars to one side and the water dripping slowly from the ceiling. He tries to push the bars of the iron door, but it appears to be rusted into the stone on either side. _Damn_. Looking back around the outskirts of the room, Stiles hopes for a weapon, but all there is is cracked stone and lichen.

Plink, plink, plink. The drips mark the only sound Stiles can hear besides his own frantic heart beat. He doesn’t hear the wolves yet. That’s good.

Unfortunately there’s only so much in the borders of the room for the hyperactive teen can look at before he runs out things to see. The room could barely be called that, perhaps 7 feet in length and 4 feet in width. He slowly turns back to the raised platform. _Oh my god it is a body_. The silhouette the faint moonlight illuminates is that of a man. Stiles slowly creeps forward. This place is decrepit, how is the body still so preserved? He reaches out to touch before snapping it back at a sudden thought. _What is it’s a mummy??_ Do people still mummify people? It had been an effective way to preserve people for centuries. The teen’s fingers twitches, and he knows that if he was home he’d be heading into another research binge.

Stepping back forward, Stiles leans over the corpse, seeking out what details he could. The dead man wasn’t very old. Kind of hot, despite the grey crackly skin. _Mid 20s at the oldest... and rich,_ Stiles guesses. The clothes were half rotten now, but clearly they had been of a rich make back in the day. But again, why isn’t he rotting??

The teenage goes to poke his face when a drop of blood from his scrapes falls and lands on the man’s lips, slipping into his barely open mouth. “Oh gross,” Stiles groans, “Sorry man”. The boy goes to pat the corpse’s shoulder in apology, but his hand never makes contact. There’s something circling his wrist. _Oh my god there’s something around my wrist!!_

Stiles looks to the right and sees nothing. As he glances back down he screams. Red iris circled in black stare back up at him.

* * *

**Now**

“Oh my god I’m going to die” the words left Stiles Stilinski’s mouth as a strangled whisper as the boy rapidly backed up. His elbow slammed into the stone behind him, the rough surface scraping through the skin. “Shit!” _This is so unfair!_ The teenager through to himself. _I’m too young to die! This is all the stupid alpha pack’s fault!! I don’t want to get eaten!_

The monster’s eyes darkened, tiny red veins growing beneath his black eyes, only adding to the horror of the grey cracked skin. _Vampire’s aren’t supposed to exist!_ Stiles screams internally as he notices the sharp fangs visible between the creature’s lips.

He screws his eyes shut. Maybe if he can’t see the monster, it wont be able to see him either. _Yeah like that ever works._ His mind races desperately, trying to think of something to do or say to stave off his seemingly inevitable death as vampire munchies.

“I wont be tasty!” Stiles half-screams “I‘m too scrawny and only exercise when Scott makes me!” But that’s not strictly true anymore, Stiles realizes. Ever since Scott was bitten, all the crazy supernatural crises have actually kept him pretty fit. He has the beginning of a six pack for the first time in his life and with the diet plan he’s been feeding his father for his cholesterol, Stiles had been eating healthier too. “Oh my god have I been making myself into a better snack??”

It takes a second for Stiles to realize what he’s hearing through the ringing in his ears. _Is the vampire laughing at me??_

His eyes fly back open and sure enough, the not-a-corpse is shaking slightly as it laughs. The tight grip on Stiles’ wrist loosens, and the teen yanks his arm back.

His heart feels like it’s going to beat out of his chest as the man slowly rises, movements stiff and unnatural. It’s head turns towards him and Stiles notes with relief that the fangs are gone, as are the crazy eyes. The man looks surprising normal without them, even if his skin is still all crackly and grey. His hair is disheveled and curves slightly over his forehead.

“Hello there” His voice isn’t what Stiles would have expected. Slightly hoarse, but still somehow coming out sounding sophisticated.

“Hi” Stiles squeaks. _Shit, what do I do now? He’s just staring at me, say anything!_ “So how bout that weather, huh?” _Probably not that. Shit, what has dad said about being threatened? Make yourself relatable,_ the teen remembers with a jolt. Will that even work on an ancient creature like this?? _Worth a try,_ he decides. “My name is Stiles. Well not my real name. It’s a nickname. Short for Stilinski. That’s my last name. You don’t even wanna know my real first name. I don’t know what my parents were thinking when—“ His rambling stops abruptly when the vampire is suddenly right in front of the teen. _I didn’t even see him move,_ the boy squeaks internally, any calm he had managed to gain rushing out again.

“My name is Elijah,” the man introduces himself, a slight smirk across his bloodless lips. The vampire opens his mouth to speak again, but stops and cocks his head towards the iron door. “You brought friends I see.”

“What? Oh my god the omegas??” Stiles scrambled farther from the door instinctively, noticing only after he moved that it pressed him against Elijah. “No! They’re not my friends.” The teen glances anxiously up at the older man, before he is hit with a sudden burst of inspiration. “You hungry? You can eat them instead!” Stiles grins nervously.

The vampire wrinkles his nose. _Oh my god that does not make him cuter._ Stiles tries to will the thought away. “Werewolves taste like wet dog,” Elijah says dismissively. His eyes slide down to focus on the teen. “How about a deal? I will take care of the trash out there for you and in return you donate a little something to drink.” The man smirks. “I can ensure you live through the experience.”

The hyperactive teen’s thoughts race as he considers the man’s offer. _Hell,_ he thinks to himself, _I don’t really have any other options._ Even if the others know he’d been taken, judging my the snow he’s at least several counties away from home. Stiles nods, his heart racing in his chest.

“I’ll make it quick,” the vampire says, as his eyes darken and fangs descend. Elijah lifts Stiles’ wrist towards his lips as the boy screws his eyes shut.

* * *

Being bitten by a vampire is not was Stiles would have expected. It hurts a little, sure, but after that it’s almost as if there’s a pleasant warmth spreading down his arm. By the gentle, but controlled grip Elijah keeps on Stiles’ arm and the downright polite way the vampire is drinking, the boy guesses the lack of pain is on purpose and probably not normal. After what feels like an age to the teen, but was probably only a few minutes, Elijah’s fangs slide from the flesh of Stiles’ wrist, leaving behind two identical puncture holes. The man’s tongue darts out briefly to catch the last droplets of blood. Stiles shivers at the feel of it against the sensitive marks.

Elijah steps back quickly, trying to adjust the cuffs of his half deteriorated shirt. Even with the little lighting the moon provides, Stiles can see the vampire’s regained color to his face. _Wow he is HOT,_ the teen thinks, feeling a little lightheaded. Though that's probably the blood loss. 

“It is time for me to keep up my end of the bargain… Stiles” Elijah sounded out the boy’s name carefully, getting used to the sounds of the unusual moniker. “Thank you for the blood.” The vampire moves quickly, and before Stiles’ knows it, the iron gate is hanging off his hinges and the teen is alone in the small tomb.

There is silence for a moment, and Stiles’ breathing sounds unnaturally loud. Then the screams start. The teenager jumps at the sound, falling back and tripping over the step by the alter and falling on his ass. The sounds of fighting don’t last long. A couple more thumps and yells, and it returns to the eerie quite of before. Stiles pulls himself back up and, heart beating out of his chest, moves out of the room and into the catacomb hallways. He hasn’t gotten far when he trips. The teen looks down and screams shrilly. “Is that a severed head?! Oh my god!”

Elijah materializes out of the darkness, wiping his hands with a cloth that Stiles belatedly recognizes as a shirt of one of the now dead werewolves. “Werewolf healing can be troublesome. Better to be sure.”

The teen stares up at the ancient vampire with wide eyes. “Uh, o-ok. Sure.” Holy shit. This guy just took out 6 werewolves in less than 5 minutes. Are all vampires this scary?

The man smiles faintly and turns with a dramatic flourish, holding his handout toward the dark tunnel. “I can smell fresh air from this direction. Shall we?”

Stiles gulps, but steps bravely forward, careful to avoid the head. _I hope I’m not making a mistake here._ Elijah may be the most terrifying creature the teen’s ever met, but there isn’t anything he wouldn’t do to make it home to his dad. To Scott. To his pack.

There’s nothing to do but keep going forward.


	2. Delectable

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles and his new companion, the mysterious vampire Elijah, continue their journey towards home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And this story has a new chapter! Thank you everyone who commented and encouraged me to keep writing this, it’s here thanks to you. I hope you enjoy!

ELIJAH

As they walk towards the entrance Elijah sensed, Stiles spoke up. “Do you want to grab a new shirt at least off the dead guys?” The only other sound in the tunnels was their footsteps and Stiles’ bounding heart. Elijah mused that while the boy was still afraid, he appeared mostly calm. Clearly the high-schooler had no idea how much restraint it took to not tear through his pretty pale throat. The sound of Stiles’ blood pumping through his body was going to drive Elijah mad. The vampire was glad for the distraction.

“And have to constantly smell wet dog?” Actually… Elijah almost went back for a shirt. The smell might help scent of the walking food source next to him. But then his control was already tenuous. The stench of werewolf would only irritate him and make the Original more likely to feast on the scrawny boy walking with him.

“Huh. You must have a strong sense of smell like the wolves do. Who has a stronger sense of smell?” Stiles tapped along his thighs as he talked. Elijah tried to focus on the words and not the lingering taste of blood on his tongue. “Is it like differing strengths or different types? Scott swears he can smell emotions sometimes, but that always sounded kinda honkey to me.” The boy sure did like to talk. In this instance, Elijah was grateful for the noise. He had chosen his sleep this time, but it didn’t mean he wasn’t appreciate of being woken. Eating the boy would be a poor thank you. No matter how much every cell in Elijah’s body ached for it. “Then again, Scott still remains oblivious to like, half of the shit I do. How someone can be so oblivious, I don’t know. But that’s Scott.” Elijah wondered who Scott was, besides a werewolf and an idiot, apparently. “You’re not responding. Maybe you’re just not a talkative guy. Or you just don’t like me. Aaaand I keep talking. I’ll shut up now.”

“Keep talking.” Elijah commanded. The fresh air came gentler down the tunnel, Elijah was glad for the movement of the air as it blew the scent of Stiles’ blood further from him. They were almost at the entrance. The boy might actually make it away from Elijah alive. The original hoped for that outcome, but he was also aware of his control. And he had not had such a weak grip on it in centuries. The past decades of sleep had been relaxing, but he was _starving_.

“Uh… really?” Stiles appeared baffled. Elijah could see perfectly in the dark, but Stiles was likely only able see bare outlines. “No one wants me to keep talking.”

“It’s distracting.”

“Distracting?” The boy repeated. But his confusion quickly gave way to fear, his heart jumping and beating in double time. They had left the catacombs. And in the light of the moon, Elijah’s dark eyes and bared fangs were clearly visible. “Oh.” Stiles voice had gone squeaky.

“Please try to relax,” Elijah said calmly. “Your increased heart rate just makes your blood harder to resist. I am trying very hard not to eat you right now.”

Stiles was slowly backing up. Elijah sighed. “Do not run,” the vampire insisted. “We are predators at our core. I can resist the pull of you as prey right now, but if you start running and pumping that delicious blood even faster through your body, I may not be able to.” The boy’s eyes were wide, and he was shaking. Ba-dum, ba-dum, ba-dum… his heartbeat was echoing through Elijah’s skull.

Just then a wolf’s howl echoed through the forest. Elijah’s head snapped towards the direction of the noise, but there was nothing within his considerable range of vision.

“Oh god.” Stiles was whimpering. “Is my only choice whether I’m a vampire or werewolf chew toy?? I don’t want to be anyone’s chew toy!!”

“Stiles. I am thousands of years old—“

“What!!?”

“—I am capable of controlling my hunger.” Elijah was overstating it a bit, perhaps. But the boy’s fear was inversely related to Elijah’s control and the human’s survival. Stiles didn’t need to know how close he was to death. “But your calm would be helpful.” An original vampire was not ruled by their needs, he controlled them. Elijah struggled to push his hunger down, but at least succeeded in putting his ‘vampire face’, as Kol liked to call it, away. Stiles was visibly comforted by its’ disappearance, which strengthened Elijah’s self-restraint. He was no new-born who ate anyone and everyone. Elijah was _civilized_.

“Come.” Elijah strode towards where he could hear the odd hum of electricity in the distance. It sounded different then he was used to, but then again it had been over 50 years. “I give you my word I will not use you as my… ‘chew toy.’”

Stiles scrambled to follow. The vampire could hear him whisper “Better the devil you know” under his breath.

* * *

STILES

Stiles finally regained his courage after they had been walking for another 5 minutes and Stiles remained un-snacked-upon. The spastic teen despaired that Elijah’s terrifying-ness had not made the vampire any less attractive to Stiles. The fast paced heartbeat was not entirely fear. Stiles felt his face flush at the thought and hoped the extra blood in his skin didn’t stress the vampire’s clearly thin control. Stiles wasn’t an idiot. Elijah talked big game, and if he truly was thousands (thousands!!!) of years old, it was justified, but Sheriff Stilinski hadn’t raised a fool and the teen could tell the vampire was near the end of his rope.

“So how do vampires work?” Stiles couldn’t hold back his curiosity anymore. And Elijah had said to talk earlier, right? “Are you hurt by garlic? Crosses? Do you burn in sunlight? Can you still eat normal food? Oh my god if I couldn’t eat curly fries anymore I would be so sad.”

Elijah let out a quiet laugh. Good, amused vampire was less likely to be snacky-snacky on Stiles. “No. No. Generally speaking yes, but I have protection against it. Yes, but it provides no nutrition. What are ‘curly fries?’” The note of confusion in the vampire’s voice at the end should not be cute. Stiles was so done. His libido always betrayed him. Why did he always find the dangerous and vaguely homicidal supernatural creatures so attractive? Elijah was like Derek on steroids. Twice as hot, twice as strong, and twice as likely to get tired of Stiles and eat him. Not that Derek would eat him. Werewolves didn’t eat people. Or so Derek claimed. Stiles still had his doubts. “Stiles?” Oops, shouldn’t be ignoring the hungry vampire.

“Curly fries are the food of the gods,” Stiles stated emphatically. After all, it was nothing but the truth. Hmmm… how to describe to someone who had been sleeping for who knows how long? “They’re potatoes fried, normally in stick shape, but in this case in curls.”

“Ah, I believe I know what you refer to now. However we didn’t call them ‘fries’ then. Nor were they curly.” The slight hint of accent in Elijah’s voice was really unfair.

“You might know fries, but you don’t know Bob’s curly fries. Mhm hmm.” Stiles salivated just thinking about it. Then again, he hadn’t eaten since lunch. And he had been snacked-on in the mean time. “I don’t know what seasonings he puts on them… the ones I try and make at home never work, but they are _ambrosia_.”

“Mmm, sounds… delectable.” Stiles heart skips a beat when he realizes Elijah was staring at him when he said that. It should be fear, but Stiles can almost pretend that the man is referring to his body with that statement and not just his blood. Except… yeah the vampire is staring at his throat.

“Eyes up here buddy,” Stiles managed to say, trying not to freak out and ‘pump that delicious blood faster.’ Was delicious a compliment? Stiles would happily take it as one from a human, but when it was said by a very hungry monster… yeah, probably not.

Elijah’s gaze lifted from the pulse point in the teen’s neck to his face. “My apologies. Bob is your cook?”

Stiles laughed. “Oh man, no. People don’t have cooks anymore. Well, really rich people still do. From what I know out of movies. Never had that much money myself… Bob’s is a diner, uh, a restaurant.” The high-schooler wasn’t sure when the vampire was last walking the earth nor when the term ‘diner’ was coined. Hmmm… a new research binge for later, perhaps. If Stiles could tear himself away for the frantic researching on vampires the teen knew he would be doing. Why wouldn’t Derek tell him vampires were real?!? Or creepy Uncle Peter?? Or Alison?? SOMEONE should have mentioned it!!

“Ah.” God, his voice. Stiles despaired at his overactive teenage hormones. Scary bitey vampire man should not be turning him on so much. Not even with his deep sex hotline voice.

“I’ll take you.” Stiles said impulsively, before instantly doubting his own intelligence. But Stiles was nothing if not stubborn. He said it, so he’d stick by it. “It’d be a crime to deprive you of the curly fries.” _Oh_ _my_ _god_ , Stiles wondered suddenly, _Would_ _that_ _be_ _considered_ _a_ _date??_

Elijah raised an eyebrow at him. _Damn_ , _another_ _one_ , Stiles thought. _Why_ _can’t_ _I_ _do_ _that!?_ “Very well.” And the vampire was smiling. Well, a small twist of the lips, but it was a smile. Stiles was gonna count that as a victory. “You’re…” Elijah paused and Stiles began to dread what he would say. Annoying? Edible? Foolish? Too much? Stiles had heard it all before. Well maybe not edible. “Interesting.” Oh. Elijah let out a small chuckle. “It has been a long time since I’ve met a human like you.” Stiles wasn’t sure how to take that. But after being kidnapped, insulted, and chased through woods by omega werewolves… being called interesting? Eh, Stiles was gonna take that as a win.

As if the world was trying to make up for all the shit Stiles had been though, the teenager looked up and there was salvation.

Well, a cabin. With electricity. And hopefully food. And maybe other people for Elijah to eat instead of him…

Wait… Stiles probably shouldn’t wish for other people to get eaten. Scott would be so disappointed in him. But then Stiles also knew that his dad needed him. In the worst of the time after his mother had died, Stiles had been terrified every time his father left the house for work. The boy had obsessed over crime statistics until a fit of tears he had begged the Sheriff not to leave. His dad had crushed Stiles in a hug and told his son that while he couldn’t promise he wouldn’t get hurt, he would promise to always do anything in order to come home to Stiles. And made Stiles to promise to do the same in return.

So that’s what Stiles would do. Even if meant offering up innocents to get snacked on.

Stiles’ moral dilemma quickly became a moot point when they found that no one was home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this in a fit of inspiration but I still really have no idea where this story is going so updating may be slow going. I do adore writing these two though, so that helps :)
> 
> I’d love to hear what you think!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles and Elijah continue to search for a way out of the forest. And the werewolves aren’t the only threat to Stiles in these woods.
> 
> (Or in which Stiles wishes his hormones would take fear-for-his-life into consideration).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Sorry it’s been a while since I’ve updated. Grad school was really brutal this semester! Thankfully I’m on break now and can check back in on my fics :)
> 
> I hope you enjoy the chapter!

The cabin wasn’t just empty, but clearly abandoned. Spiderwebs stretched across the furniture and a thick layer of dust coated every surface. Elijah followed Stiles as the boy zipped around the room, opening cabinets and poking in boxes. The vampire noted the boy was shivering, sped outside, gathered firewood, and was back by the fireplace lighting it aflame before Stiles even noted he had left.

“Oh thank god!” Stiles rushed over to crouch by the fire. “Warmth!” The gold hues of the flames lit the human’s face and Elijah wished that he had his brother’s talent for art so he could capture the image on canvas. Stiles was an interesting character. There was a maturity in admitting your fears that few young men had. And courage in holding strong despite them.

The boy was practically vibrating in front of the fireplace, rubbing his hands up and down his arms. Elijah’s eyes’ tracked the motion and he consciously moved his gaze away. The human had been helpful. And the Stiles’ low body temperature would not have been helped by the drink Elijah had already acquired. Elijah certainly shouldn’t be considering the way the heat was bringing the boy’s blood closer to the surface. He needed to ignore the lingering taste on his tongue and the heartbeat echoing louder and louder in his ear. Elijah bit the inside of his lip, letting his own blood slide into his throat and soothe the dryness. Stiles had been an honorable ally. The Original had told the boy he would live. And yet…

Elijah needed a distraction.

“Do you have family?” The Original could use more reasons not to drain the spastic youth.

“Huh?” Stiles blinked up at him. “Uh, yeah. I have my dad. No mother. Well I did. Once. Duh. But she… passed away. When I was a kid.” Stiles bit his lip. Elijah would much prefer those teeth be his. “It’s just my dad and me now. But we look out for each other.”

“Family above all.” Elijah wondered what his siblings were up to. It was unlikely Klaus or Finn had moved, but Rebecca and Kol were fond of traveling.

“Yeah! Exactly.” Stiles grinned. It made the boy look younger. Elijah tried to be less attracted and failed. “Scott and his mom are pretty much family too. Scott McCall. We’ve been besties since kindergarten.” _Besties?_ “Scott and I have tried so hard to get our parents to just date and get married but no luck.” Stiles stretched his long legs out in front of the fire, now rubbing warmth back into his thigh. Elijah itched to replace those hand with his own, but mentally slapped himself. He was no brute putting his hands upon impressionable youths. Where was his reasoning tonight? _Down the drain with my control, most likely._ “Do you have family? Oh my god, wait. Is that insensitive!? Can vampires even have family!?”

Elijah let out a small laugh. “We cannot procreate, but I became a vampire with my siblings. I have three brothers and a sister.” How he missed them.

“Whoa, cool! Younger or older? Though I suppose it doesn’t matter as much if you’re immortal. Are you immortal? I mean, I assumed based off the legends, but if I’ve learned anything with werewolves it’s not to trust all the myths.”

“One older brother. The other are all younger.”

“Huh I would have guessed you were the eldest. Like the hot older brother everyone wants to— Uh.” Stiles’ face was bright red. So flushed with blood. “Oh my god, pretend I stopped talking five seconds earlier.”

Elijah decided to be merciful and change the subject. Plus, as much as he enjoyed the blush, it really was too tempting. “So you are part of a pack then?”

Elijah let the chatter wash over him and struggled to keep the thirst at bay. The discussion gave him extra motivation to return the boy safely to his family and friends. But even so…

Elijah hungered.

* * *

Stiles was seriously freaking out.

It’s not that he wanted there to be a cabin person for Elijah to eat, but Stiles was dedicated to the idea of making it out of here alive. And the vampire didn’t seem to be aware of it, but he had been twisting the ring on his hand since the entered the cabin, as well as an occasional tapping on his thigh. One could argue Stiles is an expert on nervous movements, and the teen didn’t think little tics like that boded well when the ancient-blood-drinking-being’s only option for a drink was yours truly.

Stiles finally felt warm again and stood back up. He would find a way out of here. There was no other option.

He turned to look back at Elijah. The vampire was staring at the kitchen cabinets. They were salmon-colored with small brass fastening and fairly dirty. Stiles did not see anything interesting about them. The vampire swallowed and Stiles watched his Adam’s apple bob. Elijah hadn’t said much since Stiles started talking about the pack. That was probably another concerning sign.

“Let’s see if there are clothes here.” Stiles could use a coat. And something else to focus on. Plus Elijah was still wearing the decaying clothes he had rose from the tomb in. “You seriously need a wardrobe update.”

Elijah let out a small laugh. “Very well. I would not be opposed to some fresh garments.”

Maybe Stiles could put him in something truly ugly to kill his overactive teenage hormones. But Stiles suspected Elijah was one of those horrid people who would look good in anything. _I wonder if his siblings are all as hot as he is? Is that even possible?!?_

* * *

After raiding the closet and the kitchen (Elijah looking just as attractive in lumberjack plaid, dammit), Stiles huddled in his new coat, chewed on some beef jerky (suffice to say, there was not much fresh food), and focused on the next step in the Make-It-Home-Without-Becoming-Food-Plan: Transportation.

* * *

“…Why does life hate me.” Stiles banged his head against the steering wheel of the old Chevy pick-up they had found behind the cabin. Despite all his Jeep-saving experience with cars (And his Jeep was not a piece of junk, Scott!), Stiles couldn’t get the truck to start. “Fuck. My. Life.”

When Stiles scrambled from the vehicle and met back with Elijah he froze at the sight of red eyes and fangs behind slightly parted lips. _Oh my god._

“Uh…. Elijah?” The vampire’s expression remained frightfully still. Stiles backed up. Elijah followed step for step. _Shit shit shit_. “Elijah!” _This must be what a heart attack feels like_ , Stiles despaired as the monster snapped out and grabbed his wrist. “Elijah!” Stiles shuddered at the breath against his neck. “Elijah please.” Part of Stiles wondered if he should be crying, but he had run out of tears sometime after the Kanima and before the lake monster. “Elijah, you said I could live.” Stiles was not above begging. The (much!) older man’s nose pressed against the column of his throat. Stiles stared out at he snowy woods and wondered if this was to be the last thing he ever saw. _I’m sorry Dad._

Just as Stiles gave up all hope, Elijah froze. “Stiles.” The man’s voice was ruined.

“Elijah” Stiles kept still himself. _Not prey, not prey,_ he chanted in this head. “Please don’t eat me.” _Please please please don’t eat me!!!_

The vampire’s heavy breathing did not sound promising. “I—” Elijah raised a hand and placed in between his mouth and Stiles’ neck. An improvement. “I’m afraid I appear to be reaching my breaking point.”

“No shit” Stiles says before slapping his own hand over his mouth. “Uh” his voice is garbled from behind his fingers. _Don’t piss off the unstable creature thirsting for your blood Stiles!!_ “Sorry.”

“It is I who should be apologizing, Stiles.” Elijah backs off Stiles in a series of jerky stiff movements that honestly look painful. Stiles collapsed like a wet noodle back against the truck. He could almost still feel the press of Elijah against him. _And he did not need a fear boner, dammit!_

“You, uh, aren’t gonna make it much longer are you? As in I’m not gonna make it much longer.” Stiles gulped. “If, uh…” Stiles wondered if the risk would work out “If you can drink more without killing me…”

“Do not—” Elijah grimaced. “Do not offer that. It would not be safe. Not as I am now.” The vampire straightened his flannel and seemed to gain some mental strength from the action. “Come. Let us follow the road. We may find other people.” The ‘so I can eat them instead of you’ went unsaid but Stiles approved of any plan that ended without Stiles becoming the jerky.

Stiles thought about running, but remembered what Elijah implied about the predator-prey instincts…. Yeah, no. He matched Elijah’s pace down the road. “So… can you drink werewolf blood? You said it tasted gross earlier, but is it just flavor or actually bad for you?” Had Elijah doomed Stiles by refusing to feed on the omegas he killed earlier?

Elijah glanced over at Stiles and the teen had to force down a shudder at the dark hungry eyes. “It is not poisonous. But neither is it… nutritious.” The vampire’s movements still looked unnatural and Stiles feared the next lapse in Elijah’s careful control. Yet his profile still looked unfairly attractive in the faint moonlight. _Seriously_ , Stiles thought, _fuck my life._

Just then, a howl broke the silence of the forest. And this one wasn’t the quiet distant howl they had heard earlier in night, but loud and _close_.

“Stiles.” Elijah handed him a large branch that came out of _nowhere_. “Hit anything that comes at you.” And disappeared.

* * *

Elijah ripped into the Omega’s throat and gorged himself on the hot liquid. It wouldn’t sustain him, but Stiles’ query had made the Original realize how arrogant he had been before. Wolf blood tasted repulsive, but tearing the throat and drinking deep was still settling some of the more vicious desires bubbling in Elijah’s mind. The Original wished he could tear into himself as well. To have gotten so close to killing the bright boy… He was disgusted with himself. Elijah was perfectly capable of ripping the beating hearts from his enemies’ chests, but he preferred to let innocents be. And Stiles wasn’t just an innocent, but an ally who had given him vital aide. Elijah could already tell he had slept far longer than he had intended. _She_ should have come to wake him after a few decades. That she had not…

The werewolf’s futile struggles tapered and stilled. Elijah tossed the corpse to the ground. The vampire cast his hearing out and listened for the sounds of any other wolves. But Elijah heard only Stiles.

The eldest vampire reappeared at the boy’s side and dodged an impressive swing. “Stiles.”

“Oh!” Stiles’ eyes focused on Elijah and then flailed and dropped the stick. “I see the Omega is dead. Probably super dead based off the blood on you.” The boy’s gaze flickered up. “And judging by the lack of fangs, you’re doing better?” The Original did feel more calm. Closer to starving than desperately empty. It wouldn’t last forever, but…

“Quite.” Elijah gestured at the direction they had been walking in. “Shall we?”

* * *

Hours later (Hours!! Stiles’ legs would be screaming if he wasn’t still powering himself on adrenaline and fear), Stiles was relieved to finally reach a major road. He had never been so glad to see a highway. After explaining hitchhiking to Elijah, the human and the vampire settled against the side rail and waited.

Thankfully, they didn’t have to wait long.

Stiles had never seen so beautiful a sight as the headlights in the distance. The teen jumped forward and stuck out a thumb. Stiles swore if the vehicle passed he would send Elijah after it without regret. He was so done with this forest.

But the car slowed to a stop before him. Thank god there were still good people in the world. Stiles turned to Elijah and hissed “You can’t eat the driver!”

An older man (maybe his dad’s age?) rolled down the passenger window and leaned across the gear shift. “You need a ride, son?”

Stiles didn’t hesitate, bounding forward and dragging Elijah behind him. “Thank you so much, sir!” Stiles clamored into the passenger seat and Elijah slid gracefully into the back. It was an old car, a random mix of crap the driver pushed aside in the back — some CDs, tarps, and rolls of duct tape.

“We are grateful for your assistance,” the vampire murmured. Stiles wanted it on record how unfair it was that Elijah could still look like a handsome gentleman while in plaid and camo pants sitting next to a pile of crap. And tell his own hormones to fuck off for continuing to be so attracted to someone who is struggling not to _eat him._

“What kind of man would I be if I left two young boys like you out in this weather? How did you end up out here so late? Your parents know where you are?” God, his dad must be _so freaked._

Stiles babbled something about college pranks and hoped the driver didn’t look close enough at Elijah’s shirt to see that not all the red was the same.

“What brought you out here?” Stiles asked in return, but was already drowning out the man’s reply about hunting.

He was going to see his dad again. See Scott. Derek and the pack. He could take Elijah to get curly fries. Melissa would probably sneak some blood bags out of the hospital for Elijah if Stiles told her the vampire saved his life. (Melissa had once called Stiles her ‘least favorite son’. Stiles had been so pleased to be called her son that he had completely ignored the rest). And ok, Elijah had almost killed him since, but Stiles decided that until he did, the teen would still owe him one.

It was only when the car started to slow after barely an hour that Stiles snapped back to awareness. “Wha!? Why are we stopping?” There was nothing here. Just more snow and trees.

“I have to take a leak, son.”

“Oh.” Stiles felt silly for being so alarmed.

The man parked the car carefully. “Either of you need to drain the dragon?” _Gross_ , Stiles thought, _what a stupid phrase._ But he did kinda have to pee. So the two humans both stepped out of the car.

It wasn’t until the man pulled a knife from his belt that Stiles realized that hunters didn’t usually cary multiple rolls of duct tape. But serial killers definitely did.

“Elijah!!!” Stiles screamed shrilly and jumped backwards. “I take it back! You can totally eat the driver!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Elijah will finally get a real snack!
> 
> Thank you to everyone who reads, kudos-es, and comments on this story! These keep me motivated to keep working on it!
> 
> I love to hear what everyone thinks! If anyone wants to come chat with me on Tumblr, I’d love it! https://polkadotdragonx.tumblr.com/

**Author's Note:**

> I'd love to hear what you all think! I had a lot of fun trying to keep the characters in-character. Let me know if you think I succeeded! I had a lot of fun writing Stiles rambling :D


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